Chapter Text
Lord of the land, tall, blond, handsome and all-round good guy Steve Rogers waltzed into his favorite person's workshop just in time to hear a cacophony of noises — Crash! Bang! Wallop! — followed by a stream of muttered curses, the distinct clatter of metal hitting concrete, and the unmistakable hiss of something sparking that definitely shouldn’t be sparking. He froze in the doorway, one hand still on the latch, as a wrench went skittering past his boots and embedded itself in the wooden beam behind him.
"...Everything okay in here?" he asked cautiously, leaning in just enough to see a grease-smudged face pop up from behind a smoking workbench, eyes wide. A small man covered in soot and hair sizzling sticking out everywhere, his nicely toned bare chest also covered in soot and scorch marks from whatever had just exploded came stumbling out from a corner.
He bellowed over the top of the noise, “Sorry, Sorry, SORRY!"
Turning to face the other man in the room, he lifted his goggles from his eyes to rest on his forehead, whiskey eyes shining bright from within a rim of grime. “What can I do for you?” It wasn't unusual to see the lord of the land in his workshop. The man seemed to have an unquenchable thirst for his gadgets, whatever they may be, not to mention he was also the town's weapons maker.
“Anthony. What are you breaking this time?” Steve asked, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His voice carried a familiar blend of exasperation and amusement—no matter how infuriating he found the man, Tony’s antics always managed to charm the lord.
“Nothing,” Tony replied dismissively, giving a casual wave of his hand just as a loud crash echoed behind him, something clearly having hit the ground. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he continued to fiddle with the papers in front of him, as if this were all part of the plan.
Steve, who had been watching Tony with a mix of amusement and disbelief, raised an eyebrow. “Tony, what was that?”
Tony didn’t look up. “Oh, just a small, um, minor really, setback. Nothing to worry about.” Another crash echoed—this time followed by the unmistakable sound of something cracking.
Steve huffed in exasperation at the alchemist, “Anyway,” Steve continued, his tone shifting to something more serious, “there are rumors, talk of a werewolf, supposedly unleashed from a ship that arrived from the north. I was wondering if you’d accompany me to investigate. Given your… particular area of expertise?”
For a moment, Tony seemed to weigh the proposal, his expression unreadable. But he couldn’t quite suppress the flicker of excitement that lit up his eyes. A real werewolf? Here, in their lands? The thought alone sent a thrill through him, and though he tried to keep his composure, his curiosity was already getting the better of him.
"I suppose, I could be persuaded to join your escapade," Tony said with an exaggerated sigh, as if the very idea of stepping outside his workshop was an immense burden, though the spark in his eyes betrayed his intrigue.
The lord’s eyes lit up at the alchemist’s response. “Great! We leave tomorrow!” he declared, clapping his hands together with boyish enthusiasm.
Tony froze mid-tinker, the small gear in his hand slipping from between his fingers. “Tomorrow? But I won’t have time to prepare!”
“Tony, Tony, Tony,” Steve said, stepping forward at the first sign of his friend’s rising panic. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. You won’t get hurt.”
Tony waved him off with a scoff, batting Steve’s hands away like a bothersome fly. “That’s not what I meant,” he muttered, disappearing into the cluttered depths of his workshop, swallowed by shelves of strange gadgets and the eerie glow of an orb humming softly on the table.
“It’s not danger I’m worried about. I have so many things to pack. Or—wait, maybe I could rework the design, change the ignition mechanism, or even…”
He trailed off as he pulled a crossbow from what seemed like thin air, tapping it thoughtfully. “Adapt this, enhance the draw tension and finally test those enchanted bolts I’ve been theorizing about…”
Steve shook his head, both amused and a little concerned, watching the chaos unfold. Still, his grin never faded.
“Tomorrow, Tony. First light!”